


the other side of the fire

by awkwardwritersyndrome



Series: Korvira Week 2020 [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, F/F, Forgiveness, I promise this was supposed to be fluffy but the prompt said otherwise, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Korvira Week, Near Death Experiences, fuck suyin forever, it ends with happiness, korvira week day two, we call this bleed and bandage in therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26836372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardwritersyndrome/pseuds/awkwardwritersyndrome
Summary: Prompt: forgiveness“No, no, no,” Korra muttered against Kuvira’s lips. She couldn’t pull away for fear of seeing how broken her fiancée was. The gentle pressure of her palms was all that held Kuvira together. “I’m supposed to care about justice and peace and every single person in the world, but it’s you...you’re my person. That’s reason enough for your life to matter.”Song: My Immortal x Evanescence
Relationships: Korra & Kuvira (Avatar), Korra/Kuvira (Avatar)
Series: Korvira Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943398
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	the other side of the fire

The room smells like cedar. If you close your eyes you can almost hear the swing of axes cutting down trees off in the distance, that’s how fresh the wooden furniture was. Sanded, stained, and expertly assembled by the finest carpenters in Ba Sing Se, it was an expensive bedroom set—complete with a bed frame, dresser, two nightstands, and a bench. It made the bedroom feel cozy even on the coldest days, so it was well worth the cost. Kuvira had insisted on wood throughout the house because metal reminded her too much of home, The Beifong Estate, and of course, her adopted family. Korra didn’t mind the change of pace, so long as Kuvira was happy.

As the gentle light of dawn spilled through the blinds, Korra watched shadows form and stretch across the floor. She prayed for a little more sleep on their first night in the new house, but found no such reprieve. Eventually, she tossed back the covers and padded down the hall to the kitchen. The clink of the teapot against the stove range was unavoidably loud, and the shrill of the boiling water was even noisier. Surely, Kuvira would be up sooner than later.

While the house was still quiet, no planning or working just yet, Korra nestled into the breakfast nook and peered out the window as the sun rose. Tranquility wasn’t easy to come by with all her work as the Avatar and Kuvira’s projects restoring the Earth Kingdom’s infrastructure. Life had become an endless series of to-do lists, meetings, and goodbyes. Their hope was that a finished house would mean more time together, less moving from place to place, and a little more peace.

“Good morning,” Kuvira yawned as she entered the kitchen. Korra’s sleepy eyes tracked her long steps, tracing the silhouette of her thighs under her pajama shorts, lingering on the skin of her shoulder left bare by her tank top. So far, the house was serving them well.

“Morning,” Korra patted her hand on the seat next to her. “Come, have some tea with me.” 

Kuvira was never one for tea, she didn’t like how the warm liquid made her sweat, but she did enjoy wasting time with her fiancée. After pouring some water, she added a generous amount of honey and dipped the pouch of herbs into the cup for a brief second, barely long enough to turn the water gold. Kuvira slid into the nook and pressed herself against Korra, a heavy brown thigh hooked over hers in return. They sat and drank tea—well, Kuvira drank honey water—until the sun got too hot as it beamed through the window.

The two women started their day slow—tidying the kitchen, unpacking a few boxes, sweeping away what was left of the construction dust. Their house was new but it felt like a home already, filled to the brim with their effortless love.

* * *

After a day of doing nothing and everything, Kuvira poured two glasses of wine and made her way to the parlor. The first thing she unpacked was her record player, a gift from Lin to help her survive house arrest without going mad. It was pretty beat up after so many years, but it got the job done. She carefully dropped the stylus onto her favorite record, letting her eyes close as the music wrapped around her, crackling with soulful rhythm. 

The melodies drew Korra to that side of the house. She craned her neck around the parlor door to watch Kuvira twirl and spin, not a care in the world. She can see in her light footsteps the remains of a long-forgotten dance career. Kuvira still had the grace of a professional ballerina hidden underneath her militant facade. 

_ ♪Gee, but it's hard to love someone when that someone don't love you!♪ _

“I’ll never understand why you like this sad song,” Korra snarked with her arms folded.

Kuvira spun around on her toes, gracefully holding a wine glass out for Korra, smirking as if she’d heard that critique before. “I got the world in a jug, the stopper's in my hand,” she sang, ignoring the way Korra rolled her eyes. She pushed the wine into the other woman’s hands and guided it up to her lips. Korra obliged, taking in a healthy swallow of the bitter red drink. It was fun watching Kuvira dance alone, but much more fun to dance with her.

Korra snuck her arm around Kuvira’s waist and pulled her into a slow two-step. The song wasn’t the type of love song that couples usually sang to each other. No matter, Korra joined in anyway. 

“I got the world in a jug, the stopper's in my hand. I'm gonna hold it until you meet some of my demands.” Their noses brushed together as they sang in broken harmony, Korra was an awful singer. Wine made their breath tart, but that didn’t stop them from sharing drunken kisses as they danced around for hours.

* * *

The next morning was particularly orange, a beautiful fall sunrise in Ba Sing Se. Leaves were starting to turn and the morning air was chilly, cold enough for a coat. Korra woke up before her alarm and rolled towards Kuvira’s side of the bed, unpleasantly surprised to find nothing but tousled sheets. It was too quiet for her to be somewhere in the house, and they hadn’t talked about any plans for the morning, so Korra quickly began to worry.

A thin cotton robe didn’t do much to protect the Avatar from the brisk morning air. Goosebumps sprang up across her skin, and a subtle shiver made her hug the robe tighter across her chest. “Kuvira,” she called out into the thick of trees behind the house. Every few seconds, Korra felt the ground shake as though a herd of buffalo yak was rushing through the forest. One tremor almost knocked her off her feet.

She went back into the house to grab her boots, then set off to find her fiancée. About a hundred yards from the house, the trees opened up into a field of grass—at least it had been grass the day before. Kuvira was at the edge of the field throwing her arms about violently, ripping up the earth, shifting the bedrock deep beneath the soil. Her tank top was soaked in sweat despite the chill. Something was bothering her.

“Hey,” Korra called out over the rumble of earthbending. “Vira!”

A slab of stone fell to the ground as Kuvira turned to locate the familiar voice. She was panting so hard she could barely hear anything other than her own heavy breaths. The look of worry on Korra’s face brought Kuvira back down to reality. When did her head start hurting? How long had she been gone?

“I- sorry. Did I wake you?”

Sleep was the last thing on Korra’s mind. She took a few steps closer, every breath turning to clouds outside her mouth, hands shoved into her pockets. The rosiness of her cheeks made her look so innocent, Kuvira felt guilty for making her worry.

The earthbender jogged off to the side and grabbed the coat she’d taken off shortly after she left the house. She threw it around Korra’s shoulders like a cape and hugged her, sharing the heat fuming from her body. 

“What are you doing out here,” Korra mumbled against Kuvira's shoulder. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” She kissed the top of Korra’s head and added, “Bad dream.”

“What happened?” Korra leaned back and searched Kuvira’s eyes. The fear she found made her stomach sink with dread. It was a look she hadn’t seen since that ill-fated day in Republic City, the day Kuvira was thrown from her spirit ray and forced to stare down the barrel of death. 

“Nothing.” 

Kuvira lied. Korra knew. They went back inside anyway.

* * *

Bubbles always reminded Korra of being a kid. Senna would make her baths with enormous amounts of soap that would foam so high Korra would disappear when she got in. The eucalyptus she used as an adult didn’t get as sudsy, but she still enjoyed taking handfuls of suds and blowing puffs of bubbles into the air, so she added a little extra. It seemed like as good of a night as any to christen the bathtub. 

“Where are we going,” Kuvira asked as she stumbled through the house. Korra had her hands covering Kuvira’s eyes, which meant she had to walk on her tippy toes to reach around and be able to see where they were going.

“It’s a surprise,” Korra hummed, her lips tickling Kuvira’s ear.

A few unbalanced steps later, they crossed the threshold into the bathroom. Dozens of small candles gave the room a golden glow and the scent was heavenly. 

“Korra…” Kuvira gasped when her eyes were uncovered. She had spent the latter half of the day on business calls, totally unaware of what the other woman was up to. A romantic bath was a welcomed surprise.

They fit in the tub like puzzle pieces, legs tucked between and underneath each other, their arms hanging lazily over the edge. Korra let her foot float back and forth, pushing the bubbles about, listening to the sound of rippling water. Kuvira sank into the warmth and let her head rest against the cool porcelain ledge. Every breath made her breast bob just above the surface of the water, so Korra stole glances of her nipples between long stares trained to the angle of Kuvira’s jaw. Beauty has a way of hiding all the ulgy things that brew inside. She knew Kuvira wasn’t all there, but on the outside she was an image of perfection.

“Do you want to talk about this morning?”

“Hmmmm…” Kuvira contemplated the best way to get out of a talk she didn’t want to have. “Honestly, no.” Her voice was smooth and relaxed, Korra almost believed that the matter wasn’t worth pursuing. But she caught Kuvira picking at the cuticle of her thumb, her usual tell that she was a little uneasy, and not exactly the stoic presence she wanted to be.

“The local fauna are going to revolt against our new house if you keep rearranging the forest whenever you’re upset.” As soon as she said it, Korra regretted her words. It was more patronizing than she had intended.

Kuvira lifted her head and locked onto the cyan blue eyes across from her. She looked mildly annoyed, maybe even offended, as her eyebrows came together. “What do you want me to say?”

Careful. Questions like this seem straightforward but the answers are never kind. 

“I want you to be honest with me, Vira. Something is wrong. Something got you out of our bed this morning. You demolished a field, you buried yourself in work all day, and you haven’t said a word about it to me...Why?”

Now Korra was the one with a furled brow. Her insecurities were betraying her, projecting her fears of being lied to onto a woman who had never told a lie in her life.

“I am honest,” Kuvira insisted firmly. “I just don’t want to talk about the dream, or the grass, or that stupid forest back there. I just want to enjoy this bath with my fiancée.” Her voice cracked as her words trailed off. “Is that too much to ask? Please?”

Guilt was not the word. Korra felt awful for what she said and wished she could take it back, enjoy their soak in the tub, and leave the quarrels for another day. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins, her chin rested on her knees. Words refused to form, so she opted for silence.

The dead air was loud. Thunderous, even. Kuvira’s headache returned with a vengeance, reminding her not to scowl so much. She kneaded the wrinkle between her brows to relieve the tension in her face. It felt like time had stopped and the only thing that could end the night was a nasty conversation that Kuvira had been avoiding for years. Where to begin? 

“Sometimes…not often, but it feels real...” A twinge in Kuvira’s chest made it hard for her to speak. Her words were knotted up in her throat, choking her. Panic set in.

“You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry I pushed.” Korra rested her hands on Kuvira’s knees and tried to convey some sympathy with her eyes. She’d never seen Kuvira struggle this way, shrinking into herself, disappearing slowly.

Korra’s hands were cold to the touch after being out of the water for so long. Kuvira focused on that sensation to quiet her mind. She gnawed the inside of her cheek, another habitual tell, and recommitted to the conversation. If they were going to make a life together, outside of the house and rings and all the superficial makings of a marriage, this wasn’t something she could keep repressing. She had to walk through the fire.

“It doesn’t make sense, but it feels real when I’m in it. It’s like being back in the military camp outside of Zaofu. I was sick to my stomach that night because I knew.” Kuvira’s gaze drifted to a spot on the farthest wall. The spot couldn’t judge her when her eyes got red. The spot didn’t pity her when the tears burned trails down her face. So, the spot was where she looked.

“Su never really loved me. I was a project, a family pet. The orphan girl she dressed up for galas and trained as her guard. I hated it, but what could I do? Say ‘no’ to the dance classes, and metalbending training, and the etiquette courses? It was always something, one more thing to learn, and maybe...if I was lucky...I might be  _ mistaken _ for a Beifong.”

The spot became a blur, the walls faded away, the room evaporated. Kuvira was back in her bed with Baatar, staring at the ceiling, waiting to be assassinated. That night, her mother and brothers never made it to the barracks; Suy and the boys were stopped by the mecha guards. Still, her heart raced like death was on her heels, chasing her into darkness.

“In the dream, the guards don’t catch her, and I come to with a metal collar around my neck. Baatar isn’t there, the twins aren’t there, it’s just Suyin tightening the collar,” she held her hands up like claws, slowly closing her fingers into fists. “Tighter and tighter, until I can’t breathe at all.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Korra whimpered. It was taking everything in her not to fall apart, they’d be no use to each other if they were both in pieces. Through the fire they went. 

A bitter, hateful, huff of a laugh gurgled from Kuvira’s throat. “You know the fucked up part? I don’t fight back. I just lay there and die. And right when a normal person would break from the dream, sit up in bed panting, I get stuck in some type of hell. An empty void and nothing else. No one else...alone.” Kuvira bit her bottom lip hoping the pain would feel better than the memory. 

Korra crawled between Kuvira’s legs. Her hands framed the other woman’s face, holding her still, forcing her to look up. There was nothing worth saying so she kissed her instead. Kuvira’s eyes slowly closed, the last of her tears dropped into the tub, and the only thing keeping her conscious was Korra’s touch.

“Do you think I deserved to die? Sometimes I think—”

“No, no, no,” Korra muttered against Kuvira’s lips. She couldn’t pull away for fear of seeing how broken her fiancée was. The gentle pressure of her palms was all that held Kuvira together. “I’m supposed to care about justice and peace and every single person in the world, but it’s you...you’re my person. That’s reason enough for your life to matter.”

But was it reason enough for the rest of the world? So many lives were lost, and for what? Their families and loved ones would never get them back, their blood permanently stained Kuvira’s hands. How could she ever earn their forgiveness?

“I know you mean it. Other people mean it too. The dignitaries, and presidents, and governors—they saw me serve my time and do a few good deeds, and they’ve lost interest in hating me. But I live with it, every night, and every day. I never wake up when I die in my dreams because deep down I believe it... _ I _ don’t forgive  _ myself _ .”

More kisses, blindly placed, desperate to make it better, to soothe the pain. Kuvira’s body shook from the silent weeping, everything was sensitive as if she had actually traversed a flame. On the other side of the fire she was raw and weak. Kisses kept her grounded.

Korra told her all the right things—how she was naturally gifted well before she ever met Suyin, and her mind for strategy was second to none, and her mistakes were all proportional to her suffering, life was a cruel master of balance. Kuvira had done great wrongs and great good in half a lifetime. She had another half left to find her own path to forgiveness.

“What you  _ truly _ deserve is something you can only give yourself. I can’t, the tribunal can’t, the people can’t... _ only you _ .”

* * *

_ Oh no! _ Korra is yanked from her sleep by the lack of warmth on her side. She searches the sheets for any trace of Kuvira but finds nothing but a divot where her body usually was. Winter had arrived and it was far too cold outside for anything less than a parka, so she threw on a few layers and rushed to the yard. With Naga in tow, she made her way through the trees until she was standing in the field, again.

“Good morning,” Kuvira called out, her body hidden behind a newly planted evergreen. When she poked her head out she was sporting a wide smile and a furry hat with flaps on the side. Korra chuckled at the scene.

“What’s all this,” she asked. 

Kuvira walked over so they didn’t have to yell, a fresh dusting of snow crunched under her boots. “You were right, the fauna was going to revolt after I unearthed half the field.” 

She took Korra’s hand and walked her through the rows of adolescent trees. “They're hemlock. By the time we’re old and senile, they’ll be 100 feet tall.” She smiled as she explained, glowing with pride, genuinely happy.

“When did you do all this?”

“Here and there,” she shrugs. “My therapist said taking care of something else makes it easier to take care of yourself. I think she’s right.” 

Naga came up behind Kuvira and nudged her closer to Korra, earning laughs from both women. “My favorite wing man,” she cooed to the polar bear dog. Naga accepted the gleeful head rubs before meandering back to the house.

Korra counted over thirty trees, all perfectly pruned, vibrant greens, growing towards the winter sun. She tugged on Kuvira’s coat, getting her attention, then stole a kiss. “Congratulations, love,” she whispered as they parted.

“For what?”

“For giving yourself a chance to be happy. Not for me, or your family, or the Earth Kingdom...happy for your own sake. It looks good on you.”

Kuvira was already red in the face from the frost, but it got worse as she blushed. When she started her work with the trees the soil was dry and barren, many of her seedlings died shortly after she planted them, and growing trees took an incredible amount of patience—something she had very little of. Her tiny forest was more than a hobby, it was practice. Through her sowing, she found a way to take her time, appreciate the little things, and move past her failures with grace.

“Thank you. I can’t begin to say how lucky I am to have you.” She positioned herself in front of Korra and grabbed her around the waist. “How can I ever repay you,” she asked playfully.

The goofy flaps on Kuvira’s hat were too cute not to pull, so Korra used them to demand another kiss. “Ya know, I think we deserve another bath, and I promise not to make a sound this time.”

Kuvira dropped her hands and cupped Korra’s ass aggressively, grunting against her lips. “Well, there’s going to be sounds,” she asserted salaciously. “Wonderful, heavenly sounds.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”


End file.
